Despite feeling more than a little shaken by Maxwell's visit Joanna resolved to put it behind her and focus on her new job. To her relief her first day progressed smoothly enough and everyone was welcoming and friendly. She got on well with her class of eight year olds and felt she had made a good start. Her only concern really that first morning was that she had a child missing and none of the other children professed to know where he might be. At break time Joanna sought out the head teacher Mrs Bradley and mentioned to her she had an absentee.
"Let me guess," Mrs Bradley said matter of factly. "Nat Jackson."
"Well yes,"Joanna said.
"I'm afraid this is a regular occurrence . He will probably be in school tomorrow but if not I'll make some enquiries."
"A regular occurrence?"
"Nat's father is something of a career criminal although to be fair he has kept himself out of trouble of late. Young Nathaniel is showing very clear signs of following in his father's footsteps," Mrs Bradley said grimly.
"Is his mum around?" Joanna asked
"Yes. But she's no saint herself I can tell you that. Look, Joanna, I know what you're thinking - that its wrong to write off a child. And I would agree with you - to a point. But you don't know Nathaniel and you don't know the family - take the word of someone who does!"
Maybe it wasn't Mrs Bradley's intention but her younger colleague felt patronized by the Head's tone. "Can I ask what Nathaniel's father has been in prison for?" Joanna asked trying to keep the resentment out of her voice.
"Burglary, the odd assault here and there," the woman replied. "And you will find Nat a real handful. I'm afraid he is going to be in trouble with the law himself in a few years. I hate to sound like I've given up on him but we have tried Joanna, believe me and needless to say the family do not work with us to help Nat."
Joanna thought for a moment. "I might start," she said, "by finding out where Nat has been today. Shall I go round after school?"
Mrs Bradley hesitated. "I'm wondering about sending you over there alone," she said. Then she sighed. "Oh well what harm can it do? They live on a small holding about a mile out of Aidensfield. You can't miss the place, its half falling down. Lucketts Farm." She hesitated. "Look, you might do well to even get over the step. It really depends on the mood Bridget Jackson is in, as to whether she'll listen to you or not. And if you do get in there, watch your belongings. Especially your purse!"
The Jackson family were not just the topic of conversation at the School that morning. They or rather Tommy Jackson were the topic of conversation at Ashfordly Police Station as well. Phil Bellamy was on the phone and Alf reading the newspaper at his desk. He looked up as Nick Rowan clattered into the station.
"Hey up Nick," he said. "How'd you go with the pawnbrokers then?"
"The candlesticks that were taken when the Old Rectory got done over last week - well, someone's been in with them to Sturgeon's this morning," Nick said referring to the more reputable of the local pawnbrokers. "He got suspicious so our chap did a runner taking the candlesticks with him. Here's the description Sturgeon gave me." Nick showed Alf his pocket book. Alf raised an eyebrow.
"Looks like Tom Jackson's back in action then," he said.
Phil had finished his call. He'd been half listening to his colleagues conversation as he was on the phone, now he said, "Got a match for the finger print found on the window ledge," he said. "Its Tommy Jackson's all right."
"So we've got him bang to rights," Nick said with satisfaction. "Getting careless or he's out of practice!"
Sergeant Blaketon appeared in the duty room at that point. "Well? Anything for me?" he demanded.
"Yeah, chap fitting Tommy Jackson's description went into Sturgeon's this morning trying to flog candlesticks which fit the description of those take from the Old Rectory last week," Nick said. "And Phil's just been told the fingerprint which was found is match for Tommy as well."
"Wonder why he's back in action?" Phil wanted to know "Been quiet for awhile."
"Well leopards don't change their spots,"said Blaketon musingly, "and it seems like he's out of practice and all, making it easy for us. Then again he were never the sharpest tool in the box. Right, well I'll go and get the warrant now and then we'll go and pay Jackson a visit."
Back at Lucketts Farm, Nat Jackson was kicking a ball around in the weedy, front garden area in front of the farmhouse. He'd told his mum he'd had a belly ache and didn't want to go to school and Bridget Jackson had said "Do what you like but stay out of me road!" When his mum said that, she meant it so Nat was keeping out of the house.
Bridget was worried. Tommy had been keeping out of bother of late mainly because he really and genuinely had not been well. He wouldn't see a doctor and she'd given in trying to persuade him to go. But then he'd stopped going to work completely - he'd now and again picked up low level bits of labouring work which coupled with his illegal activities kept the family afloat. Money had been even shorter than usual and then to top it all two nights last week Tommy had been out nearly all night. That meant one thing - he was out robbing again. He had been evasive all morning - out early then skulking back to the house - and Bridget felt sure the police were going to follow him to the door. So that was why today she really did not care if Nat went into school or not.
Nat was kicking his ball against the wall around the garden. Then he stopped, listening - and then he saw the two police cars pull up outside.
"Mam, Mam!" He shouted as loud as he could. "Bobbies!"
As the police officers got out of the car Nat squared up to them. "You're not coming in!" he snarled
Nick Rowan regarded the lad resignedly. "You should be in school Nat," he pointed out. "Now don't be stupid, we're here to see your Dad, so let us get on with it."
"Not bloody likely!"
"Bellamy, you deal with him," Blaketon snapped.
"Thanks Sarge," Phil muttered. He stepped forward. "Move out of the way Nat and let us get on."
"No way copper!" Nat aimed a kick at Phil's shins which connected.
"Right, that's it!" Phil went to grab hold of Nat's collar. In answer Nat sank his teeth into Phil's hand.
Phil's colleagues looked on in amusement as Phil grappled with the angry eight year old. "Well Bellamy, we'll leave this one with you," Blaketon said, "so you, Rowan and you, Ventress, with me.
Giving Phil a sly grin as they went past Alf and Nick went with Blaketon towards the farmhouse. But they were well versed in dealing with the Jacksons and Alf and Nick peeled off left and right to go round to to the back of the farmhouse. Blaketon raised a hand to knock on the farmhouse door, as he did so Bridget Jackson opened it her face contorted in fury. Blaketon found himself taking a step back.
"Telll him to get his hands off my kid!" snarled Bridget
Blaketon looked back to where Phil was still struggling to bring Nat to heel
"I'd say," he said, "its your lad who's inflicting most damage on my constable at the moment."
"Nat!" bawled Bridget. "Pack it in!"
Nat with a glare at his mother gave in and Phil was able to grab hold of Nat's arm.
"If you were a year or two older, " Phil snapped, "I'd be arresting you!" His hand was badly bitten and bruised.
As Alf and Nick got to the back of the house, Tommy Jackson was halfway down the drainpipe from an upstairs window. He hesitated when he saw the two police constables.
"Come on Tommy, lets get it over with," Nick said patiently.
The man wearily slid down the drainpipe. He sighed as Nick got his handcuffs out and formally arrested him.
"No need for the handcuffs is there?" he asked.
"Not running the risk of losing you between here and Ashfordly," Nick said. "Now do we have to turn this place over Tommy or are you going to tell us where the gear is?"
Blaketon and Phil had appeared at the back door then with Bridget who had hold of a mutinous looking Nat. "I knew you were bloody up to something," Bridget swore at her husband. "What gear? What the hell have you done now?"
"We needed the money love." Suddenly Tommy began to cough doubling up as he fought for breath.
"You all right?" Nick asked, concerned.
"He were fit enough when he were robbing the Old Rectory last week," Alf remarked, from where he was leaning against the wall observing proceedings.
"That were you?" Bridget snapped at her husband. "Oh for God's sake." She turned to Blaketon. "Just get him out of here. Sick of the sight of him I am. And you," she turned on Nat, "upstairs, go to your room. Bad as your father you are."
Nat stomped off as Tommy gasped. "Rest o't' gear's in top shed."
Blaketon looked at Phil who slipped off to look for it. Nick was still observing Tommy in some concern. "Not going to keel over on us are you?" he asked.
"Just me chest. Can't get me breath sometimes," he wheezed.
Nick looked at Blaketon. "I don't think he's putting it on Sarge," he said.
"Aye, well, we'll get a doctor in, back at the station. Take him to the car." Blaketon turned to Bridget. "And you want to rein young Nat in and all. If he were a bit older he'd have assault on a constable on his charge sheet."
The answer was the back door slamming his face.